Disclaimer: I do not own the Grapes of Wrath it is the property of John Steinbeck.
After Ma left, Tom moved away from the culvert and back to where he had been sleeping, he grabbed the blanket, bundled it up and shoved it under his arm. He stood there starring at his make shift shelter a moment, then without looking back, he began walking. He walked till his legs ached, till the sun had risen high in the sky, its harsh rays burning his skin. He ignored the ache in his legs, the thirst burning at the back of his throat, the hunger gnawing at his stomach.
Life for Tom continued like this, eating when he could, but never getting full, drinking when he found water, but always being thirsty, never staying in one place longer than it took to have a quick nap, always moving, running, but wishing he could stop, stop and go back to his family, stop and go back to before the tractors came, before McAlester, back to when life was simple, but he knew he couldn't, now all he could do was keep moving forward, forward into the unknown and hope he saw his family again. Finally his body rebelled and he collapsed and didn't get back up. The last thing he saw was a dot on the horizon, steadily growing closer.
Tom was jarred awake as the car went over a bump too fast. His eyes snapped open as his tired mind registered the fact that he was in a car.
"I see you're finally awake," said a kind old voice somewhere to his right. He carefully turned his head to the right to see who had spoken. Sitting to the right, was a woman, an old woman with kind wise eyes.
"Who're you?" mumbled Tom starring at her. Before she could answer, Tom was out again. The next time he awoke, he was being shook by the woman. "Come on, git up," Tom turned away from the voice, but could not escape the shaking, "come on, git up, we're stopping here for tonight." Tom's eyes opened and he glared over his shoulder at the woman. She chuckled and said, "None of that, now git up 'for I make you git up," Tom grumbled and sat up with help from the woman. Together they managed to get Tom off the truck, Tom took the time to look around, they were parked at a shoulder in the road along with many other families, tents were set up in a semicircle around a fire that had a large pot on it.
"Sarah Val," Tom jumped at the voice and looked over at the old woman next to him. She grinned at him before repeating, "Sarah Val, it's my name, you asked the first time you woke up," he nodded at her and she smiled back.
"Who 're you?" she asked later as they stood out side the tent the three of them, Tom, Sarah and Sarah's husband James had put up. James was a big, bigger'n Tom, but he was also quiet and kind. Tom stiffened at the question and looked over at Sarah, she smiled sadly, "It's a sad state this here country's in when a man's suspicious of someone asking' his name, you don't have to tell me, it makes no difference you're still welcome to come with us." Sarah went into the tent, once the flap closed she smiled because before the tent had closed she had heard him say,
"Joad, my name is Tom Joad."